The perils of making pancakes in Crystal Tokyo
by Ruka Jaganshi
Summary: About Uranus, the last Princess, in trouble, and Seiya, though unwittingly at first, arriving to her rescue.
1. The dress and other matters

Uranus loathed her official princess' dress, the one that would become a queen's dress later, though by now she deeply hoped it would never happen, the reasons of which we shall find out later; for now, it's enough to know that she hated the long, elegant satin dress in the color of a starless winter night sky, with the compulsory veil of all planets' rulers finely pinned to her waist, with an uncomfortably deep cleavage, with all its revealing designs. She didn't dislike it because it looked ugly, it was far from that; however, it prevented her from two things: playing a man and moving free. Two things she enjoyed doing, two things that were her.

She was also abhorred by her right hand at the end of every day, because, starting from the late mornings, it got to be touched by lips, countless lips, lips of all kinds of people showing their fabricated respect and admiration to her, old men with dry lips and wet lips, young men with the same, and boys. Some of them even attempted to lick or suck on her fingers if she wasn't careful, matching the action with an undressing look or wink that was meant to sweep her off her feet. There was this particular boy once for exaple, son of some noble family nearby, he was ten or twelve, and already as ambitious as his father taught him. When introduced by a row of noble's names, as descendant of several grand heroes going back in Uranus' almost non-existent history, the prick stepped forward and produced the kiss of formality, staring deep into her eyes then and openly offering his excellent and flexible bedroom services, with a very polite choice of words.

The planet that was her home, where she had looked forward to returning to, the one she was supposed to rebuild and make flourish when the age of Crystal Tokyo came, had become her prison. It was a beautiful one at least; revived by the infinite power of the Silver Crystal, it was not a cold and sunless place any more; there was plenty of light, and there was no hard crust on the surface. There wasn't even a surface in the definite sense, the planet consisted mostly of gaseous clouds swirling in all colors. They were poisonous clouds. The people's world was built on floating islands high up in the sky, far from the killer atmosphere. It was the second most popular planet in the Solar System (following the Earth, cultural and political center), people from all corners came to look at its views at least once in their lives. The sky usually showed two or three faint moons at once, and a transparent but still visible stripe: the rings. But at night, when the cities quieted down and you stopped on one of the countless bridges to listen, chilling sounds came from deep below, from the endless swirl of colorful clouds. Most likely, they were noises of the planet's working, chemical reactions, but they certainly sounded like muffled voices, screams, roars, whining, yowling. That's how the urban legend was born that lost souls were crying for help there; the ones who had fallen in by accident or on purpose, perhaps thrown down there in revenge; rumour said they never stopped falling, as there was no bottom to the planet; the fate of these souls was to fall eternally, endlessly, until the end of time.

Of course it was just a rumour invented by bored ones. The planet did have a hard core somewhere, created by gravity, and if anyone fell from the cities in the sky, they were quickly killed by the deadly gases, perhaps even before they would have time to think about their situation. If anything was doomed to fall eternally, it was their corpses.

Falling eternally... it was like flying, wasn't it? Rushing forward with an unthinkable speed, the air wafting around you, wind embracing you like a passionate lover... the only lover Uranus would let near her ever since _that time_.

 _That time_ , that torturous period, at the end of which Neptune finally said goodbye to her.

 _That time_ , when much unwanted suitors started surrounding her, them, both of them, regardless of their opinion, or of the vehemence of Uranus' reaction. The former Sailor Senshis harbored the power of the nine planets in them, and they were destined to rule their own realms, but not as sole Queens. They were more of a sacred figure than a ruler. They were a symbol, and a guardian angel, a secret weapon, a priestess, a hidden power source, but not a ruler. Their destiny was to rule on the side of a chosen King. They would choose the King on their own. The King would be the face of the royalty, and the Senshi would be the holy figure, people would cry out to her in hardships. And when the people cried out, she would unleash her powers for protection.

At least that's how Uranus interpreted the endless rows of arguments she had had with the nobles in the first years of their awakening. She was firm, unrelenting, but their hearts were too dry to get intimidated by such humane terms. They were blinded by the might lying in front of their noses. But she would not give it to them. Nor would Neptune. After a while, they were the only ones left from the Senshis, struggling with the political situation of their planets, which also hindered development greatly. They were not able to center their power; rigid, ancient laws prevented it. Until the Princess chose her betrothed and took over her rightful position as guardian and moral leader of the nation, the ever-bickering, hoggish Nobles' Council would bear the fate of the planet on their shoulders, under the supervision of the Princess, of course. And they were highly talented at persuading her; if not in the heart, which was mostly the case, then through Law.

And Law sometimes made Uranus get lost in daydreams of jumping off one of those bridges. For example when it tricked her lover away from her. It made the daughter of the Seas admit that there was no way for them to go against the system unless they wished for it to crumble, their planets to turn into uncontrolled chaos instead of a flourishing world of people. Resisting the change might have saved their freedom and forced the people to rebuild a newer, better working community, but it would have taken too long, meanwhile destroying the entire defence mechanism of the Solar System, which their mission was to protect.

So Neptune, Michiru, she chose from the suitors. She described him as a presentable person, someone who would rule her planet well. Would she love him? Would he love her? Her answer was evasive, she said it was possible to _communicate_ with him about important matters, which was a rare thing here in the Outer System, Haruka ought to look up someone like that, too. But it was a gamble, maybe he was just playing to get into the position provided by her; of course that possibility existed, but she shouldn't underestimate Michiru's people skills, she knows she's not that lost. She offered to help Haruka find the aptest one among her suitors, too. This note made Uranus' blood boil, even though somewhere behind the red-hot veil of anger she suspected that the sea-senshi said that on purpose, to offend, to distance her. The princess of the wind then wanted to slap her to show her pain, but she only commanded her to leave at this instant, and Neptune didn't hesitate to obey, she turned and left, said a short, lukewarm goodbye from the door, the kind you say to acquintances, and she didn't even look back; Uranus did neither say goodbye nor ask her to stay, her treacherous words were burning inside her. She had regretted that moment a million times since then, she wished she had remained level-headed, and even if she wasn't able to hold her back, she wished she had at least let her know her true feelings one last time, hid her face into her hair and told her what she already knew, that she was going to miss her until the end of times, that she was going to be here for her if she ever needed a place to run to, that nothing could stop her from protecting her if anyone dared hurt her, that she would never ever be able to choose anyone but her, that she would always stay here alone waiting for her.

She was repeating these self-pitying thoughts in her mind again while her royal spaceship descended into the Earth's atmosphere, the outlines of Crystal Tokyo slowly becoming visible in increasing detail through the gigantic window where she stood. The former senshis didn't often get to visit other planets, mostly on special occasions; which resulted in them making a special occasion of as many unimportant events as possible, to be able to meet good old friends for some private nostalgia.

The visit of the Starlights was one of these special events. Although Uranus doubted that she would exchange anything more than a greeting nod with the three former pop stars, she was glad about the opportunity to see Neptune again, finally. Queen Neptune. How despicable it sounded to her now. But she would cope with it, she would respect her will, and she wouldn't be rude. Unless the man she'd never met, King of Neptune, seemed to hurt her in any way.


	2. Reunions

When the Starlights arrived to Crystal Tokyo, they were taken aback by the difference from the world they last saw in the 20th century. But they quickly adapted to it; after all, this world was quite similar to their own, so they didn't have to camouflage, fight, get used to civil life again. Seiya was the only one to complain about it, and he assumed his male form without hesitation. Yaten and Taiki didn't mind staying women at all. But he preferred showing courtesy to the Queen of Earth this way.

Each arriving former senshi received a warm welcome by the resident Royal Couple and their daughter, who had grown into a magnificent young lady by now. But she didn't show any signs of alterations in her personality, she was her lively, intelligent, people-loving self; and she had a good, healthy amount of hate towards Seiya, the guy about whom the Inner Senshi told her all those threatening gossip tales involving her beloved Mama, the Queen.

That is, until the aforementioned beast appeared in person. She wouldn't give in at first, but Seiya had this natural skill to attract people with his personality, the intangible energy of life flowing through his most common movements, words, smiles. And barely-adolescent Rini did fall for it, too, even though she cursed her softness; and she still kept her lukewarm behaviour towards him later on. She admitted to him with a hint of sulk, one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed disapprovingly: _the posters are lying, you're completely different. You've gotten old. You're not even handsome anymore._ The former pop star was astonished to hear it, _those posters are like a thousand years old, but I'm still young and just fine,_ he retorted; but a joking glint was there in his eyes, those midnight blue eyes that haven't aged a bit even according to the Inner Senshi, and that still reflected all shades of his emotions in them.

On a particular day, old old Seiya was lingering in a palace hall splattered with columns, one wall missing and granting view at the central rose garden outside. There was Taiki as well, wearing a violet charmeuse dress, looking slightly grumpy as always when she listened intently; there stood Makoto explaining to her about the content of her medium sized wooden cart standing outside, her attire including giant dungarees, yellow rubber gloves and oceans of half-dried mud. Arriving the earliest to the current occasion, she had gained friendly permission to look around in the enormous gardens within the walls of the Crystal Palace and take home with her whatever plant she found worthy of decorating Jupiter's glass houses. And she wouldn't let servants do this job, oh, never. She was the only one _communicating_ with her own greenlife.

„Brush that speck off of your jacket, will you?" she said then to Seiya. „I'm really sorry I glomped you like that."

„I told you, there is nothing to worry about." he chuckled patting the indicated area on his arm. „Glad to see you haven't changed. How about the others?"

This time, Makoto laughed.

„Oh they haven't changed a bit, not to me at least. The same old goofs bent on the same silly habits and fantastic beliefs."

The rest of her answer was blurred out of his attention by the glimpse of movement far behind the brunette's back, passing through the open corridor on another side of the garden. It was a figure too familiar, only it couldn't have been her. But those were definitely her movements, every lanky step, every sway of the arms by her side, those unusually exposed arms that were most definitely not _her_.

Curiosity moved his body before he thought of it; not taking his eyes off the newcomer, he touched the chatting brunette's shoulder apologetically and moved past her, hurrying after the midnight blue dress, which stopped soon when its owner turned towards the sounds of his steps.

They were the same green-grey eyes that had told him back then to leave this planet, that had despised him as a foreign fighter, that gave him a single blink of recognition before Galaxia took her life. It was the same sandy hair cut short at the back of her neck and left longer to fall into her eyes in the front, the same ever-messy locks, and as boyish they looked with a loose shirt and jeans, as elegant with a tuxedo, as feminine with this long satin dress.

And the latter astounded him to no end, he wouldn't have dreamed of her having this side. Yes, it was definitely surprise that trapped sound in his throat, tucked all thoughts into hidden corners of his brain, as well as knowledge about social interaction. The only thing escaping this weird barrier was some blurred etiquette formula for elegance, so he acted upon it then, snapping his heels together in an overacted manner, bowing with a straight back, meanwhile finding his voice as well.

"What a pleasing surprise to see you this stunning, noble Queen."

"Princess," she corrected involuntarily, while preoccupied with amazement.

Because she was just as dumbfounded herself; first by this guy heading towards her with lanky steps in a formal attire unfit for his leasurely walk, resembling Kou Seiya of the past too much, then by him making this old-fashioned, uncharacteristic move, saying banalties she had never believed true, and most of all, seeing her in a form she had never been comfortable showing _him_.

And him it was standing here, not just a look-alike, after all. His voice and the starry night's sky in his eyes were the same, and the raven-colored ponytail; only he was somewhat taller than she remembered, and his face looked riper, having lost part of the smoothness that could drive teenage girls into turbulent rave. Perhaps it was because of his stronger jawline, or what definitely resembled an Adam's apple. This unexpected change in him, his more mature looks and dressiness, the difference from his past casual style caught her off-guard, so much so that she wasn't sure how to react, whether she was to insult him or respond with courtesy.

The awkward moment was saved by Taiki and the very much casual-looking Jupiter's arrival, causing the former windsenshi to lift her gaze away from the appallingly handsome creature and afford a friendly smile to the shorter brunette, one that mirrored not only on her lips but also in her eyes and welcoming posture.

"No more hugging from me today," Makoto said, pointing at her smudged clothes. "But I'm truly happy to see you again, Haruka-san."

"Likewise, pretty lady," Uranus smiled, holding the brunette's fingers warmly for a moment; it might have been intended as her usual flirting, but right now, it appeared more like an elder sister's affection in Seiya's eyes. And it was all that dress's fault.

"You're quite early, too, I see," noted Jupiter. "Glad to escape the royal court?"

"Absolutely. There's never much uplifting to watch there."

"Even though you can brag about the most poetic balcony view in the entire Solar System?" the brunette awed.

"Believe me, it can get tedious after a while."

"I'm sure you must have a point; but all _I_ know is that there's no way anyone else could get used to it."

"Is it that enchanting?" asked Seiya.

"It does have its perks," Uranus answered slyly. "Right for example, the part where people get amazed by it."

"I'm getting curious," he muttered in a questioning tone.

"Just ask around. If you'll all excuse me, I wish to rest after this tiresome journey." she said as she turned and left the scene.


	3. The ball

The ball was held in the south wing, a grandiose hall with crystals on the ceiling, reflecting light and the elegant music for the numerous guests: royalties of nine planets, members of their court and some other influential figures. Arched doors were lining on two opposite sides - one opening to the balcony, granting fresh air and a marvellous view at the nightly city; the other leading to dimly lit corridors where tired guests could scatter and enjoy some quiet time. At a third wall of the dance hall, tables were packed with goods for the eyes and tongue, wines from foreign lands and food of all kinds.

It's where Uranus caught sight of her past lover, standing in the company of a lanky man, their backs to the crowd, apparently lost in discussion about a bite of meat which Neptune was holding on a toothpick. She chuckled and then put it in her mouth as Haruka was walking towards them, the faint sound of the violinist's laughter stirring something in her; a need to stop for a breath, or better still, turn around and walk away in the same pace.

But she wouldn't be _the_ Haruka Tenou if she had acknowledged this urge. So she took a mere moment to fix the always slipping shoulder strap of her dress before speaking up.

"May I wish you a pleasant evening, Your Highnesses?"

The man turned towards her, clear hazel eyes stopping on her face without interest in other details; contrary to the former windsenshi, who took in his sight swiftly. Medium length copper brown locks caught in a loose braid, formal emblems of royalty on the shoulders, hand smoothly holding a glass of wine, lightly arched eyebrows, hint of a lenient smile. All was in place for now.

"And to you, Princess," he replied; then he stole a glance at Neptune, who seemed preoccupied with observing a peculiarly arranged plate of shrimp. "Allow me a personal introduction. Waron Rainblade, King of Neptune."

"Haruka Tenou, Crown Princess of Uranus, Your Highness," she answered colourlessly while she afforded him the abhorring touch of lips on her hand. "I hope you are enjoying yourself here."

"Oh, I am," answered the king. "I'm especially interested in the Earthen cuisine, as I used to be a self-proclaimed cook of some sort myself before this immeasurable fortune reached me."

"And a fortune it is," something responded from her lips with a smirk, something she didn't quite have control over.

When she glanced at Neptune expecting a response, the daughter of the Seas didn't return her gaze.

"If you'll excuse me now," she said with a faint smile, and after a short courtesy, she left them.

Uranus didn't give in to surprise over the unexpected, though not unlikely, wordless refusal; she moved after her with some common phrase on her tongue to stop her, but she was interrupted when Neptune halted for a breath's time, not even turning back.

"Waron, please," she said oh-so-softly, and the king was already blocking the path of the blonde.

"Forgive my negligence, of course I should be asking you for a dance, milady," he said, offering her his hand.

She didn't take it, though she didn't show her dismay over the lousy excuse either.

"Don't you know I'm famous for my refusals?"

He answered the soft irony in her tone with a benevolent smile, lacking mockery, making blood throb slowly but stronger in her temple and her gaze lose a layer of calmness. All was in place, he was damn too much alright.

He put his hand behind his back then, turning towards the violinist who was heading out to the balcony.

"She's an admirable person, isn't she?" he noted.

The windsenshi looked in her direction, too, and she couldn't manage more than a short, affirmative response, her mind occupied with the knowledge that the king was keeping her here on Neptune's silent request. She was trusting him, he understood her, and that was something. Nobody else but Uranus used to have the privilege of speaking her private language. But now Michiru had let _him_ in. And she was locking out Haruka.

For the first time in this life, Uranus hated understanding her.

The king was now studying the blonde's expression.

"So what are your intentions, Princess?" he inquired, his tone smooth, though his words simple and straightforward.

Uranus returned his look with unveiled chill.

"Your Highness...?" she refused to show recognition of what he was talking about. She would not _let_ him speak his mind to her.

And he ignored the signs, he cut through them like paper.

"Forgive me, but it's not quite clear to me, and I wonder if you have the answer yourself." he said. "Are you meaning to go against the system, spurn the damage of ill repute, and fight to get back your beloved? Or did you come to assert your decision that you have accepted the guidance of Fate?"

Though she wasn't the kind to heed people's opinion, now his words, directly addressing the untouchable that was Michiru and her, scorched bitterly.

"Fate is not a guide, my King," she replied, respect softening her tone and ire quickening her speech. "It _takes_ you. It _carries_ you. But it never guides. It flows with you as it has to, that's all."

"These are wise words indeed," he smiled.

She was left without anything to reply. He wasn't answering her taunts. He was wielding the ultimate weapon of lenience. If she had kept competing for dominance, she would only have destroyed herself in front of him, the guests, herself.

Then he turned fully towards her as he spoke up.

"She has moved on and she does not want you back, though you don't have to take _my_ word for it, of course. But it would be advisable for you to act either way, instead of maneuvering between the two options. Legends of your bravery and resilience in past battles have reached me too, as it did every corner of the Solar System. I've always believed you are capable of much more than the way you are acting right now."

Uranus gazed at the dancing guests without seeing them. She felt that strap on her shoulder start slipping again; heat had been scorching her temple for a while, and air had difficulty to reach her lungs. Even through the music, she heard her own breath as she inhaled sharply to speak.

"Your words are wiser than anyone's Your Highness. I couldn't go against them if I wanted to."

She said that while finding herself curtsying, a deep one, in front of him, her head bent down, dark lashes hiding her eyes. She was surprised to barely hear her own voice this time, and she wondered if they reached him. She didn't seek confirmation on his face, she turned and left then without looking, restraining herself from adjusting the slipping strap until she was almost out through the corridor entrance.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

Meanwhile, Queen Serenity, 16 again, was desperate to hide her giggling from the public, as Seiya twirled her off the dance floor.

"Stop teasing me," she panted, "I know I'll always be clumsy at dancing."

"I wasn't teasing, you were angelic," he said.

"I see what you mean when you describe my innocent stumbling like that." the hint of embarrassed irony in her voice showed that she had matured during the years.

"Would you like a drink, my Queen?"

"Not now, thank you."

Another carefully hidden mocking smirk glinted in his eyes.

"Any snacks perhaps?"

"Spare me," she replied while dropping on a stool, exhausted. "I've already had enough of all these high class morsels. What I wouldn't give for a big plate of pancakes!"

"Pancakes?"

"Yeah." She glanced up at his surprised expression. "You see, for some reason, none of the gourmet staff in our palaces lower themselves to preparing such a trivial meal for _Our Majesties_. And for a royalty to enter menial places like the kitchen is absolutely outrageous. Of course you can go there if you want to, but it's too much of a hassle to get through all the hyperventilating courtesies of the servants. It's just not worth it, you know?"

"I see," Seiya nodded, still puzzled.

"This isn't a free world," sighed the Queen of Earth, noblest creature of the Solar System, with resignation.

"So, what kind of cakes are those?" he inquired while taking a seat next to her at her wordless bidding.

"What cakes?" she asked absently, glancing at her husband paying compulsory visits to important circles in the ballroom, in both of their names. She was eternally grateful to him for doing it instead of her too; she wasn't fond of embarrassing herself and her friends by her lack of etiquette skills.

"You know, these... _pan_ -cakes." he replied.

She stared at him, taking her time to seek hints of suppressed laughter on his face.

"Pancakes?" she confirmed then.

"Yes."

"Seiya, remind me again, how much time did you spend on Earth during your last visit?"

He stared back at her equally surprised.

"About a year?"

"And you never heard about pancakes."

"It would seem so, yes. Is it peculiar?"

"Very." she nodded. "In fact, it's so peculiar I think you're fooling me."

"I'm not." Seiya hurried to kneel before her, taking her hand. "I swear to you, I'd never pull such a cruel prank on my beautiful Queen."

"Fine, I believe you. You see, pancakes are these things which you... fry in a pan, obviously, and..." the blonde faltered at her explanation.

"So it's like omelette." he tried to help.

"No, it's not! It's sweet, and you can fill them with a million things, like pudding, cocoa, jam, cottage cheese, fruits, peanut butter, maple syrup... Oh, Seiya, you've just made it worse." she wailed, using a hankerchief to wipe drool off her mouth. "It's a shame you went home without this experience, and now is your chance to remedy it. I suggest you infiltrate the kitchen right away and swiftly order the chef to prepare 100 doses before you're caught and politely ushered out. Don't worry, they don't drool over you from the effort to please you... at least not much."

Seiya got startled by the last quiet words.

"Is it really that delicious or are you the only one who adores it?" he asked suspiciously.

"There is absolutely no living thing that hates pancakes." she pointed out with determination. "And you must be part of this heavenly experience. I as the Queen request that you try pancakes before you return to your homeland. Do you have the heart to refuse?"

"Not in this life, Your Highness," he said affectionately, about to kiss her hand and immediately set on the bizarre quest to the kitchen, when he spotted the midnight blue dress, and its owner inside it, courtsying low, slowly and meticulously, head bent down, pale as could be, in front of a man, a royalty.

"Who's that?" came the breathy question from his throat, formed by astonishment rather than intention.

Serenity followed his stare.

"Princess Uranus?" she inquired, secretly wondering if Seiya had hit his head, since it would have been a logical explanation for all his lack of basic knowledge.

"No, the man. Who is he?" he urged, watching her lanky figure as she hastily left the room.

"Oh, he's the King of Neptune."

"How did he make her do that?"

Serenity, however, was just as dumbfounded as he was.

"Well, he _is_ of higher rank..." she guessed, but not even herself sounded convinced. "Perhaps she seeks a good relationship with him because of Neptune?"

"She wouldn't," he breathed, standing on his feet by now, eyes fixed on the man who headed towards the balcony exit.

And if not that, then what did he do to the indomitable warrior?

Before he knew it, he had already excused himself to the Queen of Earth, and his legs were carrying him towards the exit where the tall woman had left, despite having no idea what to tell or ask her, only feeling the overwhelming desire to _know_ , to _see_ \- like so many times before, whenever he ended up following ways that his worried friends called reckless or plainly stupid decisions; not quite expecting what he found at the end of the invisible trail whose pulling he obeyed.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Cliffy! Bwehehe. And this ultra-bad mockery of royal formalities... Lucky I'll never get to chatter with the Queen of England. Also thank you for the lovely comments, and sorry for the delay; my notes and scribbles have been destroyed, which is pretty demotivating... but hope you'll enjoy whatever poo is coming up~  
_


	4. Encounter

He easily spotted but barely managed to follow her hurried steps among the scarce guests on the corridor. Luckily, the lanky figure soon turned and entered a door - following her, he found himself in the palace's tropical glass house, home to foreign plants, humid air and high tempreature keeping most people away from the place. Perhaps that's why the former windenshi chose this room to be.

He ignored the hint and, alone at last, he called out to her.

"Princess," he said catching up; "I hear your magnificent aerial palace takes astounding tolls on those who wish to visit."

"Not now," she responded several long steps ahead, without looking back.

Seiya took but a breath's time to contemplate the - to his judgement - uncharacteristic reaction.

"Forgive me for interrupting," he insisted, keeping a polite distance when he saw her stop near a stone bench under an aged, crooked tree. "There is just something I've been wondering about-"

He faltered mid-sentence at the thumping sound, his gaze silently following her clenched fist as it hit the tree trunk repeatedly, in a slow pace, as if every punch had been the result of renewed contemplation; smooth muscles on her exposed back moved in unison with her arm's work.

Dripping water, sleepy mumbling of birds filled the silence when her fist stopped and pressed against the cortex in an attempt to drill a hole in it. Seiya felt irritation rise in himself at the sight of that marble skin being aimlessly bruised on the crusty surface. Meanwhile, faint relief stole through his chest at the understanding, at the sight of her pride broken, at the sight of her pride that wasn't gone. And this inner contradiction baffled him.

The blonde's other hand supported her body against the tree, arm bending as she leaned her forehead closer to it. He observed the skin enveloping her spine, running uncovered down to her waist. That spine was supposed to stand straight and tall, yet now it was bent; its owner was sitting down on the bench, hunching over her knees.

"Stop that," he found himself command, some foreign dismay hardening his voice.

She didn't hear or wouldn't obey; slender fingers tangled into her sandy locks and clenched in fists around them. The shaking of her bare shoulders, so thin now, unnerved him.

"Don't," he snapped, walking closer with the senseless intention for his voice to reach through better. "You're embarrassing yourself. Don't be such a broken mess in this-" ( _elegant, sensual, majestic, beautiful_ ) "lofty attire."

There was no response, though her strained figure indicated anything but composure in her motionlessness. He snorted softly.

"They rumour about you as the most rigid protector of your stand, and yet here you are, justifying your friends' unsaid condolence."

Maybe because of the last word used, it worked.

"What do you know?" she breathed; it was but a throaty whisper in her deep voice. She raised slightly, her fists were pressed against her eyes while the Starlight answered.

"Well, I do see you're on good terms with someone I guessed to be your arch enemy."

Impulse moved her body then, and a breath later, she stood facing him, venom green eyes, a hint of red on the skin around them, interlocking with his midnight blue orbs shaded by thin, dark eyebrows.

"What do you know?" she repeated slowly, each word urging his senses to prepare for a fight, which he suppressed for now, as something else occupied his interest. He pointed it out plainly.

"I know what everyone else, that you're revolting," he said. "That you're holding on to yourself with claws and teeth against the tide. That you'd neither yield nor escape, seeking a third option that isn't there."

He had but a faint guess about this, but he felt an irresistible longing to face her like at the old times when she had been powerful and intimidating; to draw out her anger, her zeal, her face that he used to know. It wasn't really thinking that had made him utter these words, and neither was that a strange content washed over him as her eyes darkened further.

"You know nothing," she spat.

"I know that you're standing firm against the world, so you believe," he added, the grim words rolling off his tongue with pleasing smoothness. "That in truth, you're suffocating, merely postponing your failure that comes either way."

"You don't have the right, not you," she hissed, her hands in fists beside her, nothing but her look showing an intention to ravage him.

He felt the corner of his lips tremble as he attempted a mild voice.

"Who does then? Who am I that I can't tell you what someone else already has?"

"Your conceit is far too great if you think you'll get away with insulting me," she pointed out while moving closer, forcing him to take an involuntary step back.

He marvelled inwardly at his suspicion of where this conversation was going, and how easy it was to guide. Realisation made his tone unexpectedly lighter, stars playing around in his eyes as they made a fake attempt at acting surprised.

"I take it you expect an apology?" he inquired.

"I'll make you beg on your knees," she bit back, walking after him.

His lips curved into an appeasing smile for a moment as he backed up slowly.

"There are ways you can try. How about doing it in the traditional means of this planet?"

Her eyes widened slightly, the intention of threat and mockery in her voice.

"You didn't just challenge me in a swordfight."

His back hit a wall of bushes at the road bend, and he stopped. There was purposefully overacted alarm in his eyes.

"I did?"

"Of course not," she scorned stepping up to him.

His eyebrows furrowed in deep brooding.

"Why, yes, I think I just did."

A short chuckle left her lips, a daunting kind, and she stepped back. A few seconds passed in silence, perhaps she waited for him to correct himself, admit it was a joke, though they both knew he wouldn't.

"So be it," she said then softly, unsmiling.

"Not in that dress," he said when she moved along the path, indicating him to follow. "It would be a shame."

"In an hour then," she answered without stopping. "In the eastern backyard."

"I'll be there."

She turned back for a moment before the distance would have separated them; the pity in her look at his face could be heard in her voice as well.

"I'll kill you," she announced, and a moment later she was leaving through the entrance door.

He had to suppress an urge to gulp at the sincerity in her words. He felt blood slowly steal out of his limbs: a much familiar sensation he had whenever he braved challenges that he knew would surpass his current abilities.

After all, the windsenshi's affinity with swords was widely known, and he himself wasn't experienced with the indicated weapon. But he didn't exactly agree on this duel to win, not this time. He merely hoped that his ludicrous jump into public humiliation (or mutilation or execution) would distract her from the things that made her look this... annoying.

Yes, she annoyed him, he hated her bowing her head to someone else while looking, moving, smiling, breathing like a queen. Not like it wouldn't have been less aggravating in any other clothes; the Haruka Tenou he knew wasn't supposed to bow to anyone except the one she was devoted to, Queen Serenity.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

Their instinctual connection still existed - this was what came to Haruka's mind first when she saw the daughter of the seas walk slowly out of another corridor, mint colored silk embracing her body in elegant folds, and she leaned to the corner near the blonde's suite, not looking at her, just waiting for her to come closer. And with a throbbing knot in her throat, she did.

"Tired of the clambake?" she inquired.

Neptune didn't move, she observed the ground below the opposite wall.

"I know I'm not in the position to apologise," she said. "so I won't. I just came to-"

"To do what then? To let me know you're not sorry?"

There she was again. It was not her speaking. These were her lips, her voice, but not her words. Who was this?

The blue eyes, dimming light like the ocean's varying depths, turned towards her now with an unfaltering, neutral gaze that ceased the last bit of doubt in Uranus about her disinterest. She tried convincing herself to be grateful for that.

"I am," Michiru said in her ever-soft voice. "I'm sorry for the way this happened between us. But an apology is only valid with the resolution never to repeat the same thing again. And I'll keep avoiding you in the future, too. That's the only defence against rumours."

"Rumours," the windsenshi repeated softly, unable to ignore the comical simplicity of her past lover's reasoning.

"They're dangerous in this world," the violinist argued. "They can harm you and me, my nation, my family, my child. I can't afford to be involved in them any more. That's what I came to tell you. And to thank you for your concern. I'm fine. Move on to saving yourself now, and please don't seek me out any more."

Uranus only heard the sounds of her fading steps; her eyes had closed on their own, so she wouldn't see her walk away again. At one point, she took a breath to say something refined about the child she expected, to congratulate her or wish her well, but she grew frightened halfway that something foreign would leave her mouth again, so she stayed quiet. It didn't matter any more, wasn't worth the risk.

As Neptune's last echoing steps died down, she remembered her appointment coming up shortly, and she headed inside to take off the formal garb of hypocrisy, renewed impatience growing in her to hurt

 _humiliate?_

someone.

 _him?_

Anyone.

 _The one she was allowed to?_

She stood motionlessly for a long time after closing the door, recalling in her mind that she was duelling to put _him_ in his place. Not to pleasure in someone else's misery, and especially not to end a life. She had only said that to him as a taunt. She was ruffled from seeing the girl she still cared for, she was fed up with this world that attempted to rob her of everything, she was flustered from fighting her battles every day, she simply had no time left for niceties, that was all. And that was fine, that's how it was supposed to be, that's how the world apparently wanted her to be.

And if it wanted so, she would give it to them alright.


	5. The duel

She arrived wearing old-fashioned clothes: a shirt with ivory buttons on the cuffs, a darkened raw leather vest, fine leather boots embracing her legs. Her broad belt indicated a very thin waist. Apart from the glinting silver-blue sign of Uranus on her forehead, trait of the royal bloodline, her attire, combined with the the hostile look on her face, gave the impression of a young but ambitious lad of the streets. A shy one for that matter, as her shirt was buttoned up to her neck.

Seiya was dressed in black, but with a red jacket; this colour was able to give him a sense of stability in pressing situations. He was waiting in the yard surrounded by castle walls, a raised terrace and intricate, though neglected marble columns on all four sides; a circular decoration of faded colors in the stone pavement under his feet. The crates and boxes stacked up here and there showed that this part of the palace was used mostly for storing shipment rather than people's enjoyment.

Despite that, several guests and court members were standing idly behind the columns, seemingly engaged in light conversations, sending subtle glances towards the two figures approaching each other in the middle of the yard. They had strayed here with the intention of watching the duel, a thrill that didn't happen every day around here. The rumour had spread because Seiya, not being familiar here, had to ask around for a sword.

Naturally, the King knew about the preparing event as well, as it was his duty to know. He had seeked out the Starlight personally for ascertainment.

 _I assume you don't want me to forbid the clash, since you're handling it_ , Endymion had inquired while rummaging through the container of blades in a weapon storage room.

 _I am, Your Highness_ , Seiya had replied.

 _You're dead_ , the King had noted matter-of-factly while taking the heavy sword out of his hand and replacing it with a lighter one, and he had left the chamber without further comment.

The windsenshi showed no sign of mercy, she attacked him without warning when they met in the middle, making a circular movement as the blades clashed. The sword flew out of Seiya's hand and landed on the pavement with sharp clinking; they both stared after it amongst the surprised halt in the onlookers' murmurs.

"Really?" Uranus asked with undisguised boredom.

He didn't respond; with a straight face, he stepped after the sword and picked it up. The princess casually attempted to repeat the same trick, but he held a tighter grip on the handle this time. Seeing the careless opening left by her, he made a move to stab towards her shoulder, but in all honesty, he had no intention of harming her, nor had he an idea of what he was doing.

The windsenshi evaded his offense with ease, and at the end of the movement, the razor tip of her blade was pressed to his throat, rendering him motionless. Her face showed nonchalance.

The lukewarm metal slanted, and it cuddled up to the starlight's neck, following her way as she moved round him in a careless walking pace, leaving the skin intact, although his mind tormented him with the image of a thin, seeping crimson line that could have been left behind. When she stopped right behind him, the blade lay on his exposed skin next to his ponytail.

"This is quite embarrassing for me," Uranus muttered. "Why did you need such a large audience anyway?"

"It's not like I invited them," he stated with some bitterness.

"Well," she responded in a sympathetic tone; but then she leaned closer and continued softly. "You better start giving some performance, or I swear I'll slice you to bits."

At the last word, the blade's tip scratched his skin lightly, carving a slender, red line into his neck. Seiya yelped and jumped away on reflex, and as he turned back towards her, he got to defend a series of attacks immediately.

From the extravagant swings of his weaponed arm, Haruka saw by now what she had only suspected: that the former popstar knew absolutely nothing about swords. But she didn't find any lenience in herself from it; the idea of this impudent, overconfident buffon's downfall tasted sweet to her soul.

Soon it was evident to every peering eye that their battle consisted mostly of the Starlight evading, jumping, scooting away from his opponent's swift blade; and thus, Uranus had an easy time guiding his path around the yard, over, under or behind the stacks of crates. Though she wasn't able to trap him again with the same move, as he proved to be a quick learner for the second time as well, she was satisfied with the sound of his breaths growing more laboured as time went on, while she didn't even break a sweat, constantly watching that she stayed in the centre of the peculiar dance floor she had determined.

At the point where he skipped on top of a tall crate stack and attempted to catch his breath, crouching down to stare at her for a minute, the windsenshi suspected that he had noticed the pattern, so she didn't bother following him.

"Here, kitty," she sang huskily while stopping near the tower of containers.

It evoked a shadow of annoyance in the night of his eyes, and in the audience an elegantly veiled chuckle wave.

"Tell me one thing," Seiya began.

"Yes, I am aware you're stalling the time. You seem to be fixated on this idea of postponing unpleasantries." she took a step closer and looked up at him, curiosity softening her voice. "How does it feel, Seiya?"

His gaze dropped for a second as her words hit the mark.

"I wouldn't know," he said despite that. "You tell me."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she snapped with impatience.

"I dressed up for word-fencing, didn't I?"

"You look handsome by the way."

She laughed up at him.

"Come down, I'll make you look good, too."

The blue eyes followed the light running through her blade as she took a few steps backwards and raised both her arms in a mock invitation. She didn't even try making him believe the innocence of her intentions. And she was obviously not in the mood to answer questions for him, even though the questions had been multiplying and welling up in his mind ever since their encounter in the glass house; about things he saw but didn't have the chance to ask because the conversation was to turn into another direction. For those answers right now, Seiya would have to satisfy her first.

So be it.

"Catch me," he requested briefly before kicking himself off his proclaimed tower; naturally, not into her arms, but close enough to catch her off guard with the impact and use it to his advantage. If it was a cat-and-mouse game, he would play along, but this time with reversed roles.

He didn't leave her time to calculate, he followed the direction of her jumps, be it backwards or sideways; the sword in his hand clashed with hers every time they reached ground. He knew that having managed to turn the tide, he had to finish this as soon as possible, because she definitely wouldn't let it go on forever. If he had a chance at all, it was now or never.

He should have heeded that flash in her eyes. He ignored it, because at the next moment, he was driving her into a corner between two crates, recognizing the rare opportunity, being more interested in its purpose than where it had come from.

And then, as soon as he moved into his final offence, the blonde stirred in synch: with an experienced step out of the situation he thought to be inescapable, she ducked and disappeared from his sight.

The next things all happened in a single instant: his eyes searching the thin air in her place, his battle-sharpened instincts warning, his mind grasping, fright spinning his body, his torso bending on reflex as it remembered the neck high threat earlier, and his arm moving in a subconscious, trained pattern against back attacks.

He guessed it was her head that his elbow had hit; it must have been somewhere painful, because she reeled backwards with a yelp, a palm pressed on her left ear. Seiya stopped on his track to watch her silent struggle with the blinding pain through the wild throbbing in his head.

When she lowered her arm and looked at him over her shoulder several heavy breaths later, her deep voice was forcibly suppressed.

"If that's how you want to play..."

He was lucky that he moved early on suspicion, because reflexes wouldn't have been enough; the air sang around the sword as she spinned and cut the air inches before his chest. Next, the crate he had landed at and jumped away from exploded in the way of the blade. It didn't simply break into two: it burst, spilling colorful silk clothes from the wooden rubble. While evading further attacks, Seiya faintly wondered if he ought to have known about a hidden ability of the windsenshi, or if she was simply that good. Either way, he had the impression that, like often before, he had just dug his own grave.

Uranus felt her insides tremble from the desire to spill his blood. Not anyone's. His. It wasn't enough to ridicule himself any more. He had to fear. It wasn't enough to implore forgiveness. He had to wail in agony.

She bit her lower lip to contain the urge, stopping only for a long breath's time while her patience allowed an attempt to bargain with herself and settle for less than she craved. But just a wee bit less. A finger would do. Or an eye.

She missed by an inch again, the air coruscated between the sword and the marble column as she hit it. Then the blade swooped past a yelping onlooker's face as Seiya ducked from the swing. There was a cracking sound as it cut a piece out of the stone floor, at the point where his leg had been a moment before.

Then, she noticed her long awaited chance. He was climbing the crates again, probably for a rest, but this time, it was going to be a trap instead of a sanctuary.

The blow smashed his next stepping stone, causing packets of screws pour down like a deafening waterfall. The Starlight, unable to stop or change the momentum, skipped over the ruins and reached the top; and he swiftly left the spot before the windsenshi could have shattered the supporting crate under him.

However, the rage swirling in her wasn't her usual tactical self; her look followed him like nothing else had existed in this world, it saw his desired downfall alone. When she swung her sword next, the blow shattered a lower crate that his foot reached at the same moment.

Though he fell, he might have been able to reel away, or perhaps not; he didn't try, because the sudden explosion caught everyone off guard. Instead of moving far from the princess of the wind, his attention focused on evading the rockets and fireworks that escaped the wooden smithereens. The colourful sparkles and whistling light snakes caused everyone in the yard to cower, except Uranus.

She couldn't care less for the rapid explosions scorching the edge of her clothes, or the rocket sweeping past her left shoulder; she wanted _him_ hurt. The moment hell broke out and he turned to evade it, she kicked him with full power; her boot met his chest below the ribcage.

The sickening sound of his body hitting the wall was music to her ears. His sword dropped from his hand at the crash, it cut sharply into the ringing silence left after the fireworks. She didn't gaze after him in the following seconds, intending to give him an opportunity to get up: he deserved it after pleasuring her like this. Only when he seemed to miss the chance did she move, a disappointed smirk on her lips.

She towered above the Starlight, sword hanging by her right leg, slender paths of blood trickling down her throbbing left arm, taking in the sight of his collapsed figure quietly struggling to breathe, worn and hurt, though not broken.

 _Yet._

The grouchiness, the clarity in his eyes as he looked up at her was irritating. He wasn't unable to get up, he simply didn't want to. He was quitting.

Which he wasn't allowed to.

In disdain, she raised her sword high almost slowly, giving him time to reach for his own weapon, and then she swung down with all her strength, all the blind hate she harboured for him: an open attack that he could easily defend by placing his blade in its path, supported by both hands on its two ends. He still groaned from the effort to hold her sword back; she was definitely an expert at applying the greatest pressure at the right angle.

"Finally," she said, and there was no audible strain in her voice. "Who'd have thought you'd ever start using that thing in your hand?"

His answer was a forced smirk while it consumed all his strength to hold her back.

Then a faint golden aura kindled around her blade, slowly cutting, melting through the ordinary sword in Seiya's hand.

The disbelieving surprise in his eyes filled the princess with satisfaction; some malicious, cold, bitter joy scorched her insides from being able to humble him.

"Too bad you're late." she breathed. "I'm already out of patience."

Her words were dark like the venom green in her eyes. While the energy-infused blade cut its way through the other metal, she watched intently as the night sky in his eyes revealed an unvoiced snarl at her, the silent growling of a cornered beast. There was no surrendering in those eyes, not even when her sword completed its path and she let it touch the skin under his left eye. Panting, he returned her gaze without fail, awaiting her next step.

 _The eye._

And she would have been more than glad to take it.

"Three times," she purred instead with open mockery. "You're amazing."

Audible sighs of relief came from all around behind the columns when she straightened up and stepped farther away, sheathing her sword, feeling her left shoulder around for the injury without wincing. The pain she felt seemed distant, as if it wasn't entirely hers; it was a foreign sensation like both her body and soul had grown numb.

Seiya got up, too, touching the wall for support and to hide the weakness in his legs, a natural reaction to the threatening situation he had been in. The mortifying defeat stole a sullen expression on his face; he felt beaten in several senses. Although the windsenshi did seem to have forgotten her grief momentarily, Seiya was far from satisfied. The look he saw in her eyes wasn't what he knew. It was not right. He wasn't there yet.

"Wait," he called after her as she was leaving, his voice faltering from the pain in his torso. "I want a rematch."

"Of course you do," she chuckled. "But you already bored me to death. So no, sorry."

"Backing out, aren't we?" he teased, but it didn't even make her turn back.

"That's the lousiest way to try camouflaging the obvious."

He walked after her, because he had difficulties speaking loudly right now; to hide it, he spoke in a light tone.

"At least hear me out, will you?"

Uranus faced him then with honest susprise.

"Are you really this low? Do you honestly think, after such humiliating failure, that you deserve to waste any more of your opponent's time?"

"No," Seiya shook his head swiftly, his jaw tense. "But you obviously had the upper hand here. You could have admitted it instead of going through."

"A miserable excuse! Have you abandoned your enormous self respect?" she snapped.

"This time, we'll do it my way," he explained, ignoring her comment. "That'll make us even."

"Even?" she was astonished.

Instead of answering, he held back his defensive retort and gazed back at her silently to avoid straying from the matter. The princess had the faint impression that the stars in his eyes were turning in a barely noticable pace as the two of them waited for each other's answer. Finally, her lips curved into a lopsided smile.

"And what would your way be?" she inquired with soft conceit.

"Hand-to-hand combat," he replied.

"As you wish, Princess," she articulated the last word slightly. "I'm leaving in three days, seek me out till then."

"See you around, Princess," Seiya answered with the same mocking intonation.

Haruka commented his irritation with a brief laughter.

As she entered the darkness of the corridor leading away from here, her heart racing in her entire torso, the sword dangling by her side thirstily, she led her mind back to the starting point of this fuss, to the way she ended up duelling her most annoying rival of the past. Simply because she got startled from the empty blackness her thoughts were dwelling in. Remembering now seemed like a crawling attempt to get hold onto something solid against the untouchable nothing. Being annoyed with _his_ conceited intrusion into her private affairs was a relief compared to this unfulfilled disappointment after the duel.

Pain had slowly crept into her shoulder by the time she reached the main hall that connected all four wings. The ball had ended, children were in bed, part of the elegant crowd was still rambling out of the ballroom towards their suites. The burnt wound scorched hot, radiating into her neck and temple, pretending to split her skull apart as she walked with careful steps towards the infirmary, filling her with a miserable feeling of regret for her reckless actions.

"Princess, what happened?" asked a startled nurse when she entered the glass door.

"An early spring festival," she replied dryly.

While the wound was taken care of, her thoughts drifted elsewhere despite the stinging pain. She was a proud and confident creature, always acting the way she chose to be right, never going back on her word or decisions; and still, right now, she was unable to shake off the feeling that today's hassle for dominance hadn't been quite worth it.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

"Tell me, are you crazy?" Yaten inquired as a greeting the next morning, entering the living room in a knee-length lycra twill dress of lime green that peculiarly brightened her already outstanding eyes.

"I'm fine, thank you," Seiya smiled at her from the armchair, carefully stretching his shoulders. "It's just a bruise."

"Oh, I'll bruise you enough to keep you out of trouble for your entire life," she announced while proceeding to strangle her sibling.

"Old habit speaks from you," Seiya retorted. "I haven't made any trouble this time."

"Not my bum," Taiki interrupted as she emerged from another room. "How come then that your graceless defeat was the main breakfast gossip?"

"Actually, I gave up," Seiya corrected morosely.

"Before she could have won. Everyone talks about it as a completely one-sided clash." Yaten noted with malicious glee. "They say you practically offered her your balls on a silver plate."

"That is _not_ true," the raven-haired Starlight jumped up, astonished by the monstrosity of gossip. "I fought valiantly!"

"And you're not repeating it like the rumour claims, I hope," muttered the tall woman.

The raven-haired starlight attempted to escape the topic with an ambiguous huff; only he forgot he was up against two of his childhood comrades.

"You didn't," Yaten breathed in astonishment.

"Of course he did, it's not him to settle with just one failure," Taiki sighed massaging her temple.

Seiya threw up his arms.

"It's completely different this time, okay? I'm perfectly capable of beating her. Thanks for believing in me." he added with a hint of sulk.

The brunette stepped up to him, her height surpassing his even as a woman.

"It's not that, you know. I know you're capable of winning against anyone. But _she_ isn't just anyone, is she?"

His jaw tensed, and he started pacing in the room to escape her peering gaze.

"Who is she?" Taiki asked, causing him to snort.

"You know that already."

"Remind me. Who are you facing?"

Yaten studied them curiously while Seiya hesitated.

"Sailor Uranus," he answered finally, his eyes darkening as they were looking at someone inside his mind.

"That's right. Someone from the past that you still seek to outmatch. But why take this risk if she doesn't exist any more?"

"I don't know," he barked impatiently, clearly not pleased from the topic.

"You may feel at advantage in your male form, but she'll use all means within the battle to defeat you," Taiki pointed out.

"Like biting your balls off," added the silver-haired girl.

"Like that's ever gonna happen," Seiya snapped at her.

"You'll see, you'll cry," Yaten shrugged.

The brunette stood into his way to stop him.

"You won't if you don't challenge her. You'll never meet again in this palace until she leaves if you don't seek her."

Seiya shook his head.

"I'm fighting her." he said briefly, and he proceeded to leave the room.

"Why are you so bent on it?" Taiki inquired.

"Because I was wrong," he said stopping at the door but not turning back. "It's not her I'm up against."

His two siblings glanced at each other confused.

"What do you mean?" asked the brunette.

"It's not her," Seiya repeated, mostly to himself, before leaving.


	6. Clash

Haruka lay on the gigantic pillow, staring at the corner of the guest room, not willing to pour strength into her muscles for starting the day. But the hideous outside world was waiting patiently, with a malicious glee over her powerlessness against it. She found herself daydreaming; playing with the silly thought of being one of those budgerigars in the garden, which, when they lost their mate, died shortly and that was it. No life after, no continuing of the merciless time, no feelings to drown you, no faces to assume, no formalities to hide behind.

She knew the source of this lowly cowardice, it signalled her growing weary of a battle she was unable to win. A futile battle she couldn't, wouldn't give up; she had left it behind for the short period of her Earth visit, and it was creeping up on her as the day of return drew closer, indifferent towards her strict resolution not to think about it. One more day she had until then, a perfectly useless day only to delay the inevitable.

Without getting up, her hand clambered on the night table, until she found what she was looking for. She gazed absently at the card with the message she had received from a servant yesterday evening. Nine a.m, eastern backyard, as the careless scribble said. She didn't even know what time it was now.

While she fiddled with the dishevelled bandages on her left arm, furling them around her shoulder more tightly, the memory Seiya's words in the glass house stole into her mind, as if just to irritate her further at her vulnerable moment. Or perhaps because he had put his finger right on what she was experiencing now, though he'd made several miscalculations. She did look down on the greedy, venal folk fidgeting around her day by day, but she didn't see herself standing tall. Rather than a queen or a mighty warrior, she felt like some cornered, snarling beast enraged by the profane treatment. She did send them off to hell when they stepped over a certain line, but it was merely the tip of the iceberg, she put effort into keeping back most things that her sense of justice craved. In this century, where stability had replaced the earlier clashes of Chaos and Love, and diplomacy served the growth of their lands, keeping humane like this was the way to protect peace in the world. Her nature to right all wrongs immediately by force was like an old veteran in her, it didn't have a place in the present time. All it could do was mock-fight this unworded battle, postponing her failure and lengthening this pointless ordeal.

Pointless... the word sent a surge of insulted anger through her body, one that she knew very well. However, it also gave her momentum to get up from the table and leave the arid room at last.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

"How is your shoulder?" Seiya asked standing in the familiar yard.

"How are your ribs?" Uranus inquired while descending the steps.

"And your ear?"

"That's still irritated, thanks to your dumbass goofiness."

"I'm genuinely sorry," he smiled, and the hint of guilt in his traitorous eyes revealed he meant it.

She was untouched by the notion, just like by her continuing ignorance of the time. Was she late, or punctual? How long had he been waiting? She didn't know, didn't care, and he didn't seem to note on it either.

Nobody was around; this time, the Starlight made sure his message travelled in private. Or so he thought for now.

The princess only noticed for real when they faced each other up close, that he had indeed grown since his first visit on Earth, surpassing her in height, if only by a few inches; her mind registered it now that it was relevant information, namely something that could influence the combat form they were about to engage in. She noted the breadth of his shoulders despite his overall impression of being slim; the loose dark cotton shirt he was wearing failed to hide that he trained regularly, being the guardian of a world.

Not that she had a reason to be nervous, of course; in the good old earthen years, she had no difficulties beating up challengers twice his size after motor races. Nonetheless, the sweating in her palms reminded her that those had been ordinary humans, far less practised at wielding their own man-strength than her current opponent.

A moonless night in his eyes observed hers.

"Are you scared?"

Her eyebrows arched at the soft, patronising tone. They momentarily diverted attention from her body's preparation, so she was almost able to catch him off-guard with the opening blow aimed at his jaw. He might have fallen for a less direct attack; this way, however, her wrist got diverted by his lower arm. She jumped backwards to evade his counter-attack, cursing her defensive instincts; she needed to forget superfluous rationality and be far less timid to beat him.

"A strange supposition," she responded tauntingly, "from someone who chooses his male form to fight a lady."

"It's a notion of respect paid to your strength," he offered.

"Oh?" she responded with the matching surprise at his willingness to admit it.

"But if you wish so, I don't mind transforming."

"Thank you, but you won't need to," she smiled. "It'll be over in an instant."

He nodded in acknowledgement and moved closer, causing them to circle around each other in a loose battle stance, eyes hunting for an opening in each other's movement.

Uranus was wearing tight clothes; not skin-tight ones, but the simple 3/4 sleeve T-shirt followed the lines of her body; Seiya guessed she had chosen it to stay discreet about the bandages on her left shoulder, but he might have been wrong. Together with the similarly tight, flame-patterned cotton pants, they were hard to grab if he would have thought of throwing her off-balance that way. If he was to bring her to the ground, it would have to happen by close physical contact.

He tried his luck right away, as they didn't seem to get anywhere by waiting for the other to take a wrong step on their own. He moved in for a scare, earning a faint smirk and an arched kick, blocked by his left arm. He didn't have time for another move because the blonde started a series of well-aimed blows, requiring all his attention to match their speed, though the strength put into them was not quite what he remembered from a few days ago.

The princess didn't really mean these experimental hits either; her intention was to ascertain the obvious, that he wouldn't be brought down by frontal attacks. She changed her offence gradually, planning to find the right way to approach any weakness he harboured. The stationary exchange of fists soon turned into moving around in the yard; jumping, tumbling, bending and running made it more colourful. Their senses heightened, their ideas became richer as blood sped up in their veins. Though it wasn't the appropriate situation, Uranus found herself marvelling at his fight: slightly different from what she remembered from the past, it looked like he was dancing as he swirled away from her kicks and tried to guide his limbs past her blockade. Each time he matched her steps, broke her pace or stole an opportunity between her attacks to land his own, his movement seemed rhythmical and styled, almost theatrical, and her mind strayed towards the silly pondering if there was some kind of music going on in his head.

A dull hit on the side of her neck made her dizzy for a moment, and she felt a powerful – and much annoying - grasp pull the hair on the back of her head; Seiya kept his arm straight, moving behind her as she attempted to counter the captivity.

"Do I really have to break a bone for you to take me seriously?" he inquired panting.

She laughed shortly between two breaths.

"Talk about the impossible," she said before hooking her own arm into his with a sudden turn, making him suppress a groan when she tensed his elbow from behind.

As he reeled forward, she landed a backwards kick on his side; it might have broken his joint if he hadn't released the sandy locks and drawn back in time.

He still felt satisfied while recovering from the burning sensation on his left side, as his point seemed to have gone through. He could go all out finally.

Before he'd have gotten back into battle, though, murmurs hit his ears.

"Ladies, don't you have something better to do?" he inquired from the unfamiliar figures idling around on the first floor's small balconies.

The response was giggling behind decorated fans; the elegant groups pretended to be engaged in quiet conversations with each other.

"It's a bit late to be afraid of another public failure," Uranus noted.

Seiya shrugged.

"If you don't mind an audience, then it's fine with me too."

"It's easier to swallow with resignation," came Yaten's comment from the heights; she received her sibling's annoyed look with malicious glee, her chin supported in her palms.

"Yeah, he loves you too," the windsenshi hurried on. "Can we get over with this?"

"Right," Seiya muttered, lowering his stance slightly as he prepared to go offensive, and Uranus couldn't miss the darkening of the midnight blue eyes.

There was a noticeable change in his movements as well when they engaged in another swift exchange of blows and defences. Uranus needed a minute to be assured that she wasn't about to be beaten in speed, and another to figure out why she still wasn't able to keep up.

This time, his hits never had a finishing point, they flowed into each other with a train of continuity. The rhythm, the mannered ploys were gone. The breaks were gone. Like a coiling snake, or a whip, his next move started before his previous one finished, and it included defence as well as evasion and taunts of his torso.

The princess didn't have time to dwell over the growing numbness in her limbs as she deflected the powerful hits, because backing up wasn't enough to evade them. He always stepped longer than her, except when she moved to the side. Though she assumed that keeping his firm stance while steadying each of his blows put a toll on his stamina, and her quick eyes followed him easily, too, she also sensed his determination to outlast her.

And soon, he caught hold of her, their lower arms intertwined in his grasp one after the other; his foot slid into a firmer position, and he attempted to make her fly, to throw her on the ground. She recognised his intention and thought it wasn't possible to defend, but then she suddenly noticed it: the stop in the continuity of strikes. Before he could have moved her, she threw up her leg, aiming a circular kick on his head, forcing him to release her arm, since he needed a longer distance to evade it. Or so she thought.

He didn't lean back but ducked instead, letting her leg swish away above his head, still holding onto her firmly. While she was still out of balance, he pushed forward, knocking her down, intending to land on top of her and capture her with his weight. But her warrior's body reacted to the threat on its own: her feet dipped into his stomach before they stopped rolling over, adding to the swing and throwing him over herself.

They both hurried to clamber to their feet while eyeing each other. Seiya leaned on his knees to catch his breath. Uranus felt her muscles tremble, but she stood straight, eagerly drinking the air; she stayed in this waiting stance as a display of control - an instinctual defensive move when the sign of weakness would only encourage your opponent. She still hoped he wouldn't obey the hint fast, though she knew she'd take it on if he did.

The onlookers were watching their pause in a tense silence. Yaten was also more interested since her sibling tumbled over the windsenshi's defences. She didn't often see him train in his male form, as it wasn't habitual in their homeland. His fighting style was the same, but he had to use his weight and flexibility differently, she expected; yet the latter wasn't quite true, he seemed just as unafraid of bending his body to its limits as Fighter, despite the significant loss in his muscles' stretch. He wasn't as swift as his current opponent, but amidst a battle, he usually let his mind decide on the course of actions, rather than his body, meaning: his negligence towards his own limits could give him an advantage for the moment. The later consequences weren't his present concern. This kind of carelessness against the nimble, barely tiring strikes of the windsenshi foretold a never-ending battle.

Whispering increased in the audience again when Seiya straightened up and approached his opponent in a much casual manner. But Uranus didn't believe him, the unchanged clouds in his eyes didn't let her.

His eyebrows ran up at her backing up to keep their distance, though she revealed a smirk while steadily returning his gaze. She knew she appeared as a coward right now, but she was no fool to let him do as he pleased, after having experienced his strength. If he was to have the offensive again, she would grab an active role this time. This is what ran through her mind while she was stepping backwards, not entirely keeping up his quickening pace as he moved after her with a slightly surprised, unheeded smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. This way, his approach got slowed down by a hair's length, and she had the chance to pinpoint the moment between their contact and the beginning of his attack flow. And with the need to defend eliminated by backing up, her senses sharpened on his body language, she spotted it.

She led her fist through the opening, planting it deep into his stomach, causing him to groan and bend over the hit. Now it was her lips to curve upwards; things would turn around quite soon.

His voice was pained as he forced it out of his tightened throat.

"God, you've gotten weak."

At first, the tone prevented the incongruous message from reaching through, but when it did a second later, it sent a surge of insulted rage through her, just as he hoped. She barely pulled her fist back yet when her leg shot towards his head.

Instead of evading, he caught up the attack with his opposite shoulder and lower arm, a reckless move in the eyes of the onlookers, and a necessary sacrifice in his own. His entire body weight was needed to break the hit at the thundering contact, tormenting his mind with the illusion of _hearing_ his own bones crack; but in exchange, he could slide his arm up at the next moment and coil it around her leg, trapping her behind himself, once again out of balance.

A strong tug forward was all it took to jerk her remaining leg out from under her and make her land flat on the ground; if only her aversion to being brought down hadn't been that strong. While falling backwards, she instinctively grabbed his shirt, the nearest thing to hold on to, almost tearing the dark cotton and pulling him down with herself at the momentum.

Seiya groaned in pain as he reeled backwards and strained his muscles to stay standing under the doubled weight. The princess used his stability he was keeping with such great effort, and she threw her other leg around his waist instead of putting it back down and allowing him another go at the same ploy. But grabbing steadier hold around his neck wasn't an option; the surprise was over, he reacted nimbly with jerking her captured leg downwards, unwittingly spinning around in the process, determined to drag her off himself even at the cost of his own clothing.

They fought for dominance over the moment, their threatening growls coming from their most basic survival instincts. Seiya, like he had some sneering beast on his back clambering for his throat, held onto that limb with an iron grasp as they did this peculiar dance around the yard, amongst the exhilarated cackles of the onlookers; had he had the chance, he'd have dragged her body to the ground and quickly locked her down with whatever move fitted the moment. Though the area was full of marble stone walls and metallic crate corners, where the light-felt but extremely unbenevolent creature could smash and go limp enough to release him, when his steps staggered that way, he reeled away at the last moment. He hissed a barely formed curse through his teeth as he realised the reason: he didn't wish for a duel so serious that he hurt her to this extent, and he was never good at going against his own will. He was able to concentrate at the beginning of the move, but by the end, something was off.

One thing still served his advantage. Even if their stubbornness seemed to be equally strong, the cotton shirt wasn't that lasting: its dark fibres tore with discreet snaps. As the windsenshi felt this, her free leg instinctively stopped suffocating the Starlight by the waist and moved to keep her body away from the floor. Before that, however, she proceeded to bring him down instead, kicking one of his legs from behind, which made him fall on his knees under her weight. It was to her dismay that she was unable to add enough momentum and pin his upper body down with it; the resistance he put up against it was firm like a wall, reminding her once again how different their muscle build was.

Along with his ability to stumble around, he lost the opportunity to get rid of her in the way planned, too. Quickly grasping that, while she proceeded to lock his neck into her arm, he reached up with a startled defensive movement, and grabbing the reaching arm over his shoulder, adding strength to the momentum by himself rolling along, he threw her off finally.

They separated again as they both tumbled farther from the peril in their defencelessness.

Seiya stood up, tugging on his soaked shirt to straighten it around his neck, smirking under heavy breaths.

"So? Want me to transform now to make it easier for you?"

The venom green eyes narrowed slightly.

"Drop the matter, you can't go back on your word."

"We'll never get anywhere like this," he threw up his arms.

He did want to transform now, having realised he wouldn't be able to put his soul in it while he was to fight her in this form. Hitting a lady for fun was just not his thing, and this one obviously wasn't willing to be brought down by some playful wrestling. Not even while her hand unconsciously lifted towards her left arm, changing course when she noticed it. She finished the move by lifting her index finger in a mock warning.

"I'll break your neck before you could lift your brooch."

He only hummed doubtfully and reached in his pocket.

And she did attack, forcing him to draw back his hand and defend the familiar shower of annoyingly pointless frontal strikes. He was already bothered from the knowledge that his own dumbass, currently absurd but sadly unselective chivalry put him at a disadvantage. With growing impatience, he did his best at getting away from her, to use a breath's spare time to shout the transforming words. But trying to outrun _her_ was an idea just as ridiculous as it seemed at the time of its birth in his head, and while he concentrated on mindlessly sprinting across the yard at his top speed, practically flying on his long legs, he ended up in a corner, facing his opponent up close by the time he spun around for an escape.

"What are you playing at?" she inquired while using her arm to roughly thrust him against the wall over his collarbone.

Him unable to free himself and her unwilling to move from the well-earned dominant stand, they were now in a mutually locked pose, panting, hurting, muscles trembling to hold the other one in place because they were both exhausted and in desperate need for a break. She felt the intense heat radiating from his chest, but she had no strength to rejoice over his exhaustion through her own.

"Trying to exercise my right to transform whenever it suits me," he griped while struggling to rid his throat from her pressure.

"You don't have the right now," she pointed out. "You're in a match. One that you're losing, by the way."

Of course he was, since he couldn't bring himself to get even near to the height of his otherwise phenomenal abilities. Instead, he was now quite close to what he'd have called pissed. With an irate huff, he reached for his pocket with an open movement again, but when she snatched at it, his other hand grabbed her wrist, keeping it out of the way and her body turned to the side, so her right hand couldn't reach across for a significant attack. But she released his neck then and spun around to come from the opposite direction, an elbow colliding with a defensive lower arm at the place where his face had been a moment ago. He didn't release her wrist but had to give up on the brooch again as he stepped aside from her offence repeatedly.

After the fluttering attacks in her captivity didn't cease for a minute, he saw it wasn't a stance where he would ever have a momentary break to act on his own will; so gathering his strength once again, he swung her around by the captured arm with a groan from the effort, sending her towards a large crate. She wasn't able to stop her momentum, but she could change its direction to avoid the painful crash, jumping up with a hand-supported backflip and landing on top of the crate.

They stopped for another glaring session. Constantly searching his gaze, she knelt down cautiously at the edge of the wooden box. She afforded this notion because she was on the verge of fainting from the lengthy strain; she really needed a rest, and judging her own superior abilities, she couldn't imagine him any different.

Seiya placed his hands on his hips in the middle of the yard.

"Ready for giving in?" he asked when his breathing calmed down.

"On the contrary."

"I see. So why is it _you_ hiding out on the crate this time?"

"I'm ready to go ages more," she lied over her grazed pride. "But if you keep up such a distracted performance, I'll have learned and stolen that intriguing technique of yours in no time."

He was unable to hide the grin widening on his lips, even though he attempted to camouflage it by wiping them with his thumb.

"What's up with that good mood?" Uranus inquired leaning on a pulled-up knee, mostly because she felt quite the opposite.

"Nothing much. It was just the best compliment I've received in a while," he admitted.

"Must have been a lonely life," she grunted.

"Not like I'm short on admirers, mind you. But being applauded by someone as high of themselves as you is quite an achievement."

"Applauded?"

"Well, it certainly sounded like that," he winked at her.

Astonishingly, it didn't comfort her. She didn't mean it as a compliment, didn't even plan to say it, and it made her irate that he got the unintended hint.

Then his eyes flashed; it was her luck that they betrayed him as always, because she was able to react in time, though without thinking, merely with the determination not to let him have his way. Because she couldn't let him – or anyone nearby – believe she needed that kind of aid. So, in bewildered rage about his impudence, she rocketed off the heights and threw herself straight into him. The reckless clash happened as a resounding detonation in their heads, sweeping both of them off at her freefall and thwarting them to the ground together.

The star-brooch flew away into a corner, and they rolled to the middle while labouring to exploit the moment and incapacitate the other in a hurry. There were no more learned techniques, it was a blind, weary struggle for domination. And when nothing but physical strength remained, Seiya soon had her under himself, though he earned an elbow hit for his jaw while the windsenshi was on her way to slither out. But the nearness of victory helped him focus, so he ignored the sparkles it sent into her vision; he grabbed her waist and dragged her back into the comfortably secure position despite the dangers her voice and look promised. This time, a knee crashed into his ribs, squeezing air out of him rashly, but it went unheeded, too; he was bent on settling this miserable struggle for good.

Uranus quickly grew fed up with the volatile captivity. She also felt a strong repulsion from the clouded night sky in his eyes that she had seen for the first time today, and the confidence in them as he seemed to ascertain his victory now with a serious expression; the way he leaned over her to pin her arms down with his body weight, and the way he mindlessly licked the blood off from the corner of his lips before speaking up. And when he opened his impudent mouth to ask her to stop struggling and admit defeat, she grasped for the only option available and jerked up a knee with an angry movement, dipping it into the most sensitive spot she could reach, causing a yelp get caught in his throat.

His body attempted to crush her with its weight for a moment, but she was aware of his momentary helplessness, so she rolled him off herself with a groan and scrambled up from the ground. She swiftly landed further kicks on his torso, afraid he would soon recover from the weakened state, and when he just wouldn't roll off his knees from the impact, she grabbed the neck of his shirt in irritation, examining the movements of his agonising figure, holding her sweaty fist ready in front of herself, clenched tightly to stop the shaking; in fact, her entire body was shaking inside, her breath irregular and superfluous, air hissing through her tense jaw with force.

In a desire to get away from him unharmed, she willed her hand to release the shirt, and she backed up slowly, an arm still held out ready to defend, her legs bent and prepared to jump away. He didn't seem to care nevertheless, he seemed to be fainting or perhaps mourning over his latest injuries rather than being reproachful.

Uranus had already realised that it wasn't the best move while Seiya got to his feet dizzily, finding support at a crate but staying bent, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze turning to a killer look as it regained focus and stopped on her face.

"That was absolutely out of the rules!" he yelled behind his hand, the harshness of his voice breaking the venomous silence.

"What rules?" she snapped back already in a battle stance father from him, ready to defend. "If anything was agreed on, I must have missed that because I think-"

"Then you missed your whole life! Because this one dirty move has always been banned in the entire Universe!"

"Since when has anyone cared about rules on the battlefield? How have you survived so far with this naivety?"

"This is not a battlefield, smarty, it's supposed to be a duel!"

Uranus needed to laugh, and she was too much riled up to try restraining herself.

"Look at you barking in a tantrum," she said wiping imaginary tears from the corner of her eyes. "When your opponent finds your weakness, it's a lesson for you, think about it that way."

"Fine," he hissed, lips tight.

He shot at her before the moment of her negligence was over, allowing her stop his left hook with a palm; but his right punch following instantly was a fake, and his fingers intertwined with her left hand as she moved to fend it off. It was a mutually locked stance her eyebrows questioned at first, but when he answered with a rough sideways jerk of his hand, it became clear. She yelped from the pain shooting through her wounded shoulder muscle, her body swirled on its own to ease it, and she found herself colliding with the wall, pressed between it and her opponent's shoulder dipping into the middle of her back, left arm forced behind her, and the right one only attempting to push away until it was also captured.

She took short breaths to ease the waves of pain, holding back all further sound with force, she wouldn't give him that pleasure.

"How about _your_ weaknesses then?" he groaned from the effort to hold her in place. "Where do I start? There are so many ways I can hurt you right now. Any preferences?"

"Why don't you smash yourself in the face and see if I laugh myself sick?"

"You see, that's not working, as I'm in mind-blowing pain right now, and it blocks my rationality."

"Not like you have that in general."

"Then at least I'm still being me. You, however, are way off from what I've known. You're not your old self."

"Neither are you. You're being a thinker, a wise-ass. You're trying to teach me like I was your grandson's generation."

He laughed at that, insulted.

"And yourself is doing the revolting teen thing, so where is the problem?"

"I'll show you the problem if you don't let me go, and right now!" she demanded.

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about."

But as she would neither respond nor cease struggling to get free, he finally loosened his grasp, annoyed. She jerked her arms free like she was shaking off maggots, and she spun around, her raging look interlocking with his for a long moment before she moved away from the wall, hurrying towards the exit.

Seiya struggled to believe what he assumed. He stepped after her, pointing with a full arm and his index finger.

"It's my win and you know it!"

And that's where the conversation ended, because she disappeared through the door without a glance back. It still didn't feel like the Starlight had won the argument. His fist clenched, and shortly afterwards it punched the wall in his helpless irritation. He glared up at the murmuring crowd, purposefully catching careful gazes at him and making them turn away in embarrassment, until he looked at his sibling with a similar wordless challenge. Yaten just shook her head morosely, her gaze drifting towards the sky for a moment, and she moved inside.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

"Did I or did I not tell you?" the silver-haired woman inquired harshly as she burst into the room.

"You did, I don't care," Seiya muttered in the armchair with his forehead in his palm, eyes hidden, the ache in his joints diverting attention from his most painful spot.

"You're pathetic," she said while plopping an ice bag into her gasping sibling's lap and sitting down on the sofa near him.

"I don't care," he repeated motionlessly.

"Yeah, I'd try to forget it in your place, too. Too bad the rest of the palace dwellers take pleasure in remembering your repeated failure. You'll hear your own story again and again, and you can only hope the rumour doesn't follow you to Kinmoku when we return."

"You're exaggerating."

"Am I? You know my big mouth, it'll be the first thing I tell our friends to have a good laugh together."

When she received no answer to the taunt, she leaned back in dismay and pulled up her knees, playing with the green shine on the dark scales of her skirt. She didn't like to see Seiya in this state; he was being a washout, and she wished she could help him.

"You know what?" she said, putting her feet down and leaning closer to him. "You may be pathetic right now, but she's even worse, she's a bitch. She's dirty. Stuck-up. A demon."

He didn't respond, but he turned the words over in his mind.

Stuck-up, she was. She was a self-important, conceited harpy, but also the most resilient and faithful guardian of Queen Serenity. Giving up was not her thing; but again, he himself wasn't any different.

Dirty, she had played today. She did that when it served her goal. She had acted behind Usagi's back in the past, convincing the Starlights not to approach her any more, in her protection. She had killed her own comrades to convince the evil queen of her faith, to be able to catch her off-guard. She was ready to pay any price to walk the path appointed for her as guardian of the Solar System, and God help those who dared cross it. Seiya wasn't very good at faking things, people always spotted it on his face. Sometimes he wished for this ability she had; it would have made life much easier for him, mostly involving the times he got scolded by his siblings like he was their child.

This time was different, however: she had acted in her own sake. Perhaps he didn't know her - after all, they had barely exchanged two humane words during the year he had spent here. Maybe she was a bitch, a demon. She was definitely unyielding. Had he been able to achieve what he wanted with battling her foolishly? Did he get her mind off the matters that caused this unfitting behaviour in her? By the way it had ended, it felt like he had merely broken himself on a thick barrier around her, and much predictably, too. But he had been putting up with his own ludicrous passions since he was born, so by now he was quite used to the following surge of anger at himself.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

Uranus clutched the throbbing hurt in her left arm while resting against the propped up cushions motionlessly, waiting for the painkiller to take effect. A smaller pillow was laid on her face in hope she could disappear from her own self this way. Her jaw was tense in an effort to forget the recent events, because the weight inside her was laughing at her with malicious glee. She had been a fool. Opposing the former pop star's statement at the beginning, there was no strength in her actions. They were instinctual, out of her control, out of her pride.

She counted her injuries. A strained wrist (obtained while struggling to get free from his grasp), a sore hip (from the ground while falling down with him), three more blue or green patches by tomorrow (two also from the graceless crash, one from his knee and one from his skull, and one she couldn't remember). And the cutting pain in her shoulder wound for the next few hours.

Spoils of war: the pleasure of pissing him off yet again. A measly reward. A hothead like him was too easy of a target, it was boring by now, and it had lost its purpose centuries ago; she had only jumped into it this time because he sought it for himself. Not because she wished for a way to break him. She wasn't the malicious, ill-willed kind. Was she? Well, she didn't use to be. And now? Had she accepted his challenge wishing for the suffering of a fellow soldier? Or anyone else?

She might have been wrong about her actions being out of her control; and even if she wasn't, it was still her own doing. It was her rage, her own desire for victory, her own greed for pride. Denied to her last breath.

In the end, she was just like _those_. What were they? Humans. Nobles. Suitors. No. She and them were alike; they craved power, she craved pride, and she, just like them, denied responsibility for her own pathetic actions. But the truth didn't change from that: she was ready to abandon her humane grace to aid her instinctual desires. And that was far from something she'd have faced easily, let alone shown off with. Instead, it made her feel glad that she got to return to the Floating Palace tomorrow without having to face _him_ one more time.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** To those who thought last summer that new chapters were scarce - fun time is over, I've taken up the reckless challenge of managing work and school together~ Expect an increasingly lousy update once per exam season. Thank you for sticking along so far! xoxo_


	7. Starvation

" _I wanna know where does love go to die,_ _  
_ _Is it some sad, empty castle in the sky?_ "

The spaceship stood in the middle of a seemingly endless grass field, on three legs for now, its surface reflecting the nightly environment with perfect smoothness; its barely visible outlines oval, narrowing towards the top, the golden sign of Uranus on two flattened sides.

The Princess was standing tall and slim in front of a palace gate, on top of marble stairs that lead to the edge of the field, with an electric cart waiting to be loaded in the early morning mist. Her dress mirrored and her skin contrasted the western night sky on her left; a thin shawl was wrapped around her shoulder against the chill, hiding the bandages. She was staring at the faraway ship as forcefully as if nothing else had existed in this world. A hint of wonder lingered inside her at the presence of the Starlight next to her, attempting to catch her gaze that she vehemently ignored, though failing to unnerve him with it.

"You fooled me," Seiya noted then as a greeting, leaning to the intricate railing of marble.

Her green-grey eyes turned away from the line of servants carrying luggage, but her body didn't follow. She sought signs of offence in his eyes.

"You're saying...?"

"Back then, you gave me three days to let you recover. Why does it seem only two now?"

"This is already the third one," she pointed out.

"Which, I hear, you'll be spending on the road by morning. That hardly counts as a day. You weren't possibly hoping I'd be too late with challenging you?"

She laughed faintly at the open supposition, without a need to deny verbally.

"And what made you think I'd wait till the last hours of the day, or that they'd be yours to take at all?"

He sighed sadly, gazing into the growing stripe of light on the horizon.

"I must confess I expected you to come up with a less dirty excuse."

She rummaged through her mind for the appropriate shade of annoyance at the taunt, and she was surprised to find none. There were so many things going on that were more important than him, perhaps they had used up the last shreds of her ability to care. Something else bothered her, however.

"So how many spies did you set on me to find out I'll be leaving at this inhumane hour?" she inquired.

"Asking just one servant was sufficient. But that was only an accident, too, so it really seems you didn't expect me to realise it."

"You have no reason to complain, your wish for a rematch has been fulfilled. But I appreciate your persistent desire to say goodbye."

He smirked at that.

"Actually," he began then merrily to hide his embarrassment. "I've just been thinking I'd ask you to take me along to your planet."

And there it was, the reason of his willingness to forget. Perhaps he asked it simply to annoy her in revenge. She instantly knew that his request would have been unwise to fulfil even if she had wanted to, but her eyebrows still furrowed in brooding.

"What for?" she asked sternly.

He held a short pause, his look urging her to guess something obvious. When none of this seemed to happen, he took a deep breath for the articulated explanation.

"First of all, because it's one expensive tour even for people of high rank, so any fool would use an advantage of you and I belonging to the same friendship circle."

"That's not-"

"Of course not, not in itself. Now, the second reason is the political hogwash." His voice softened unwittingly after the sarcastic mention. "You're probably aware that I arrived to the Solar System as an Ambassador of Peace, sent by Princess Kakyuu to set down the foundation of a friendly alliance between our galaxies-"

"It's an unasked gift from your princess," Uranus stated matter-of-factly. "Our world is perfectly capable of defending itself alone."

He shushed her in annoyance.

"Questions and insults afterwards. It's not your task to make such a decision anyway, it's a peace that your Queen desires just as much as mine."

"And my task is to protect-"

"-her from unwanted risks, yes, can I finish?"

"I'd prefer if you left in silent sulking," Uranus answered bluntly. "My answer is no."

"Wait, just one more thing. You might want to give me an opportunity to take revenge, too. For your behaviour unfit for both princesses and warriors."

Uh huh. He did remember. It was a tricky stab he might or might not have realised. Ignoring the knot forming in her stomach, she only requested clarification with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Otherwise, you'll just lose your face and be labelled a coward," he explained. "You noticed how many people saw that interplay, didn't you?"

"And they rejoiced in it, too. They loved watching you fail again."

He smirked in the moment's pause while conjuring the willpower to stay calm.

"This is the only chance you have," he reasoned with ample haughtiness. "As far as I heard, you don't plan to return in the next decade, so there won't be another one to redeem your nobility, since I'll be gone by then. Take it."

The princess would have choked sooner than use a breath to accept this condescending tone. She turned towards him fully, a hand on a hip, displaying interest.

"Let me make this clear. You're trying to worm your way into my palace by insulting me?"

"You've been no less scornful with me, Your Highness," he let her know with a victorious softness in his voice. "You offended my princess, above all."

"Then we're even, I don't owe you anything."

She turned away to signal the end of the conversation, which he royally ignored.

"You really should feel it your heartfelt task to make a good impression on my person. You know, to bring back pleasing news to my home, to create a tighter bond between our worlds-"

"Are you implying that I'm supposed to let you win?" she asked with a teasing edge in her tone.

"I wouldn't ask for it even if you stood a chance. But you'll have to grant me permission to travel on your ship if you wish to clarify that."

"I'm sorry, that request is too great. As I said, we're even, so no further explanation is necessary."

"Even if I offered something of the same calibre in exchange?"

"There is nothing you could offer."

He shrugged and stayed like that for a minute in deep brooding.

"You never know if you don't try me. Ask me anything, really."

A sudden thought didn't let her keep her proud silence.

"Even the secret of your peculiar fighting style?"

After a few seconds' quiet, Seiya turned towards the railing and gazed at the teal horizon opposite her.

"Which one?" he asked absently.

Uranus inspected him from the corner of her eye, noticing how he was hiding his look.

"The one you used against me."

"The dancing?"

She couldn't help it, a laugh escaped her throat at that. It _was_ what it seemed then. His grin was victorious. But she refused to ask again, so he gave in after a minute.

"Am I a fool who'd give you the tool to beat me with?"

"You admit you can be beaten?"

"Of course I can't. But I could if I let you match this technique with your speed. I'm really sorry but it's not going to happen; there is nothing that could compensate for giving up the sight of the defeated, helplessly raging you."

His lengthy explanation almost made it sound like an apology, which was quite out of place.

"You think I'd rage?" she was curious to know.

"I hope so."

She chuckled along in a lukewarm manner. There was nothing wrong with letting him dream.

"Nevertheless," he continued, leaning to the rail with his back again; "the most I can offer is the chance to try convincing me. That is if you take me along, of course, because you don't seem like an expert at letters of admiration."

"My letters are impeccable," she lied. "But I'm not interested either way, thank you."

"I wouldn't be either," he acknowledged. "But you could still listen to your bigger heart and take me.

Uranus sighed in irritation.

"You won't get my permission. There is nothing for you to see there. Wait for the next commoner flight and take your own friends along for some sightseeing, if you insist."

"You're really harsh with an ally of the old times," he noted in dismay.

"Actually, this is my friendly side." she smirked. "You see, the royal ship isn't a practical way to reach the popular areas, since it's only dispatched on special occasions, and the palace is strongly secluded from other parts. That means you can't move back and forth between our planets every few days; no one knows how long you'd be stuck there."

He would have responded, but then he noticed the shadow stealing on her face. Her eyes focused on a figure ascending the steps before her among the fluttering servants and crates. The posture of the princess shifted, her chin raised while awaiting the patrician who approached with his head slightly bowed in respect from afar, followed by two far less extraordinarily dressed humans.

The seemingly ageless man wasn't remarkably tall, but his composure lent him the impression of being so; the colours of his robe seemed to vary independently from the play of light, and the tattoo-looking jewels embracing most of his articulated fingers were richer than the attire of his Princess, whom he approached in the most reverent manner with his servants.

"Your Highness, the ship will be ready to depart in but an hour. May I inquire if you have made all your necessary arrangements?"

"Yes, Chancellor, I'm in control of my personal matters. Thank you."

"Forgive my rudeness," he replied quickly bowing. "It's your splendid youth that evokes a protective manner in me, since in my duty I am responsible, as you know, for the well-being of the Royal Family."

Seiya remained motionless meanwhile; by being ignored in this impudent manner, he had a better opportunity to observe the scene with silent curiosity. He wouldn't necessarily believe all rumours, but right now, the fractious Princess seemed just as perky with aristocrats as was said by the elegant whispers in the court, mixed with either disdain or impish chuckling.

"As another matter," the man began, "I wonder if you have received the document about the sealing of Ambercoast yet."

"Sealing?"

"Oh, my," the tip of his long fingers covered his mouth for a moment as he gasped, an embarrassed smirk narrowing his dark eyes. "Lord Bryce must have intended to wait with notifying you until we are home. He probably thinks you would want to be left to relax during your time on Earth..."

"What sealing?" Uranus insisted coldly.

"Oh, but he didn't forget to call your attention to our meeting about it as well, did he? That would be _very_ irresponsible."

Uranus turned her head away from his eyebrows that furrowed disapprovingly.

"You may leave, Chancellor,"

Her voice was colourless, or perhaps Seiya only felt that because he saw the matching lack of emotions in her eyes as she gazed into the distance. After the man bowed down, he shot a single low glance at the former popstar, raising his chin and scooting off with a scornful expression. He might have considered him one of the Princess' suitors that had yet to learn his lesson.

Uranus didn't move; both of her hands were holding onto the shawl like it could fall off any moment in the windless environment. The edge of her iris seemed to be scorching in the vanguard rays of the sun.

"That was intense," Seiya muttered.

"I have business to attend to," she said then briskly to one of the servants hurrying past them, ignoring the Starlight. "Send for me when we're departing."

Seiya gazed after her leaving figure in silence as he acknowledged grudgingly that he had missed his opportunity. True enough, selling his pride for the travel would never have been an option, but his failure still reached him unprepared; he only realised now that he had unwittingly gotten lost in the confidence he usually harboured when facing challenges: that in whatever way, he would succeed.

And there was also the fourth reason he didn't mean to speak about: the questions crowding inside him, desiring to burst out. He felt like he wouldn't be able to breathe until he had gotten the answers. Where was the Uranus he had known? Who was this gorgeous uncrowned queen, and how did she manage to stow his arch rival so deep inside herself that she wasn't seen by anyone anymore? How did she not suffocate in that captivity? Why did she endure the restraining chains, what made her able to stay put? How could she tolerate being forgotten?

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

For once, Uranus let her mind be filled with rage about this single matter while she strode along the corridor. Luckily, she knew very well where to find that fat buffoon. He never stopped scribbling into his accountancy books that bore extra coins for him at every line, unless personal contact was necessary for his current transaction.

Lord Bryce was chattering on the terrace near his already emptied residence: a stout figure of moderate height and a stomach revealing excessive welfare. At her approach, he released his companion with a short whisper and hurried to bow deep before her.

She didn't give him time for a verbal greeting.

"When did you call a meeting about Ambercoast?"

Colour seemed to leave his otherwise flushed face, and his pale eyebrows ran up in surprise.

"Ambercoast?" He openly got lost in brooding for a moment. "Oh, do you mean the meeting from two days ago? I assure you, everything went in the greatest order-"

"And just how did you fail to notify me about it?"

"Forgive me, Your Highness, I only meant good by leaving you to rest during your visit here. I didn't wish to bother you with an affair that could easily be settled without your immediate assistance."

She felt blood rush towards her temple, but she didn't care if it was visible from outside.

"Where are the documents?" she inquired, struggling to keep her voice calm. "Destroy them at once, I want to see it happen."

"I'm afraid that it isn't possible," he breathed with respectful astonishment. "These are official-"

"They aren't. I won't authorise it," she pointed out bluntly to help him understand.

"That's absolutely rightful of you, naturally. However, they still have to stay intact, because, how do I put it, their fate isn't quite in your hands, Your Majesty."

"What do you mean?"

Lord Bryce, through his annoyance over the Chancellor's betrayal, took a deep breath.

"Princess," he began, uttering the world with fake politeness. "You know as much as I that your monarchy doesn't exist. Not until you get married. And in the meantime, unfortunately, you are free to be excluded of certain decisions."

A scorching desire crept upwards in her body: a craving to punch this man right, to destroy all the other scum, giving room for something better to grow in their place. Without time to answer appropriately, she turned on her heel and left the scene before she'd given in to the urge. Biting her lip, she reminded herself that it wouldn't protect the people, that she had other ways to help them out of the hands of these manipulators. Only she had to find these ways one by one, and each of them was but a tiny stripe of light, soon covered by other activities from opposite parties; consequently useless. Her rank may have been high, but the power that came with it was meagre.

The light of the crystal torches were greyer, dimmed by the breaking dawn, while she walked back to the busier parts of the palace, feeling like a ghost on her wander towards a goal that had only existed during her long passed lifetime. Her desires, her actions certainly didn't fit into the current world: she didn't see anything graspable that she could have headed towards.

A familiar servant passed by and pulled her back to life with her respectful cheer.

"It will be good to be home again, won't it, Your Majesty?" said the young girl while curtsying.

Uranus nodded absently and walked on.

 _Home_.

She thought of the ever-rotating palace built of stones shimmering white in the light and looming ivory in the darkness; its staggering heights, the serpentine stairs running around the tower endlessly upwards, broken by entrances on every few levels, constantly haunted by shrill winds that tugged at your clothes impatiently, calling you to become their playtoy. And the halls with ceilings so high they were lost in mists of vapour dancing like water, making the mosaics above them appear to be alive and moving. And the endlessly long tables with heavy chairs around them, and the circular boardroom with seats behind small desks arranged tightly like in a theatre, enclosing the royal throne in place of the stage, making it into a barren, lacquered island towering above an ocean of malice, a mass of eyes starving for the gold-carpeted seat.

She thought of Silver Millenium, the time when she was a mere soldier, assigned to guard the Solar System in the dark, cold, lonely outskirts, where there were no walls, no limits, just an endless space to move freely, without anyone to talk to you, whether you wanted to hide away in a hole or scream towards the people's lit world at the top of your lungs, your voice never reaching, their thoughts never involving you. And the silence, its varying tunes, sometimes a lulling hum of the Universe around her, sometimes roaring in her head so powerful she expected her skull to burst with desire for the tiniest foreign noise.

Her gaze ran along the trees and grey-paved roads of the Earthen Palace, like she was caressing them; among all her faint memories of past lives, these were the familiar features. They reminded her of living as one of the people, working for food and shelter, choosing the paths to take, watching over her friends, loving freely and unashamed, whether it was racing, music, the victory of Light over Darkness, or Michiru.

It was supposed to be free. A heart couldn't be led on a chosen path. And there she was, the Daughter of the Seas who had proven it wrong, she led her own heart where she wanted. Where she needed to. Away from _her_.

The solitude she had believed eternal was abolished by the people gathering around Sailor Moon; only to return in this new world awakened by the Silver Crystal. A different kind of solitude this time, relished with an illusion of being connected. People, just like her home land, were countless islands, linked by scarcely opening bridges. At each reunion, she recognised the joy in the former Senshi's eyes that followed an eternity of longing; and at each parting, she saw the subtle reluctance from leaving their most treasured friends for another aeon. They were the replica of what she felt and hid carefully during each occasion. She abhorred from leaving the people she wasn't afraid to turn her back to. Only at departure did she realise each time how she - her heart and soul, her need for humaneness - had missed that security.

Another servant hurried before her, asking her to look at her cabin in the spaceship right away, in case there were changes to be made before take-off. Uranus followed her, with the familiar knot forming in her chest as they approached the field.

Some friends were gathering among the bustling porters already, the ones close enough to see her off at this early hour. The Royal Couple was present at everyone's leave; Pluto stood next to them, Saturn with her ever-young smile and the ancient knowledge in her eyes, and Seiya, apparently having nothing else to do than accompany the Queen of Earth for a chatter before some more people woke up.

What came over the Princess then was so sudden she was unable to describe it even afterwards; her muscles tensed up at the surge, which spread in her rapidly and culminated as annoyance on her face. She yelled directly at the Starlight, her voice thick and commanding.

"What the hell are you idling here for? Pack your stuff at once, the ship departs in half an hour! Hurry!"

"Yes, ma'am," Seiya gabbed and, too surprised to retort, he ran off to follow the order, skipping explanation from either of them.

He left four dumbfounded people behind, who, after following his rash exit, turned towards the windsenshi with various reaction times. She saved a minute with ordering a few servants to lend a hand to the Starlight, and then her unnerved gaze strayed towards her audience for a moment, as it was unavoidable to acknowledge their much undesired presence. However, when Setsuna found her voice and inhaled sharply to ask, the desire to escape the scene moved Haruka's body; after a fast curtsy, she spun around in a stiff manner, and she hurried after the servant showing her the way to the spaceship; her head completely blank now, her knees felt weak as she climbed the stairs of the giant vehicle.

As she stayed alone in the cabin where she would spend the next week on the journey, she looked around mindlessly, as it was required. Gazing out the window but not really seeing, her forehead found support on the crystal glass as she leaned to it, releasing a long breath: the first emotion for the past minutes, a mixture of self-loathing and relief spread in her.

 **-v-V-v-V-v-V-v-**

The Queen of Earth was dropping her tears in a modest silence as she separated from the group and approached the ship once again, past all the farewells, alone this time, receiving the questioning look of her most faithful guardian near the entrance.

"So many goodbyes after each occasion, it's hard to bear," she explained her lack of restraint while clutching the hands of the tall, gently smiling Princess. "There is just one more thing I have to tell you. Perhaps it's something you should be aware of, I don't know. These gentlemen inquired about Endymion's interest in the trade of diamonds. Some other Kings and Queens have been asked, too. I don't know about lower rank nobles. Watch out."

"It was high time. I beg you, don't worry about that; I won't be blind to it."

"All right. Please take care, stay strong, don't overexert yourself."

"Yes, Your Majesty. And you keep this world alight with the benevolent love in your heart."

"Visit again soon, will you?"

"I wouldn't miss a chance to perceive your beauty."

Serenity was silent for a moment; her smile was washed away by tears, and then the wall broke, her pale arms embraced the tall woman tightly.

"Have a safe journey, Haruka-san," she muttered through the childish sobs.

Uranus wasn't caught off-guard, she knew the notions of that ever-innocent face too well by now; the only challenge she faced was to keep seeing her Queen instead of the charmingly unfledged girl from the past.

A step away, Seiya observed the - to his mind - vacuous softness on the windsenshi's face with a lopsided smile he was unable to stop. When Serenity released her, and her tear-soaked cornflower blue eyes finally turned towards him, his eyes were laughing as he bowed and kissed the pale fingers with affection.

"My heart grieves from leaving you so fast, my Queen."

"And my head is still full of questions about it," she responded snuffling. "But there is no time for them now. Enjoy your stay, I'm sure you'll be amazed."

He was still working on getting rid of the smile while the Queen retreated after composing herself.

"There's a line you shouldn't cross, we'll talk about it later," Uranus noted without looking at him before turning and ascending the steps of the vehicle.


End file.
